Her Secret Rio Baby
Author
Luana DaRosa
Reads
18,3K
Chapters
12
CHAPTER ONE
WHEN ELIANA CAME down to the hotel bar she hadn’t planned on meeting anyone. Especially not the out-of-this-world-handsome man sitting on the barstool one over from her. While catching up on the futebol game she hadn’t noticed him sit down, until he struck up a conversation about the new manager of one of the teams. Something that threw her off. Men usually assumed she knew nothing about the sport.
At first glance he seemed no more than a well-dressed businessman finding refuge at the bar after a long day. But the longer she kept looking at him, the more her skin tingled below the surface as the extent of his devastating handsomeness coalesced in her mind.
His suit was tailored to perfection, clinging to his body as if he had been born in it. The fabric was the kind of black that swallowed a man not confident enough to wear it. Not him. He dominated every fibre with a quiet but electric sensuality.
The only thing that seemed out of place in this vision was the charcoal-black shoulder-length hair that had been carelessly ruffled on one side to keep it out of his face. Eliana wanted to dig her fingers through the strands of that hair and tug him closer to her.
The fantasy came over her unbidden, intruding on her already exposed nerves, and she shook her head. It must be her tired brain, she told herself as she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from licking her lips as she noticed his eyes dart to them for a fraction of a second.
Eliana had spent the better part of her day travelling from Belo Horizonte to Rio de Janeiro. A bereavement had brought her here. Her father Marco, along with her half-brother Vanderson, had died in an accident a couple of days ago. A fact that had left her numb on the inside.
She had never been close to either of them—hadn’t even attended their funeral. A part of her had wanted to...to take that final opportunity to say goodbye to the only family she’d had left. But when it had come to it she’d backed out, staying locked in her hotel room as she got to grips with the new reality she now lived in.
She was now the heiress to her father’s hospital and fortune, and that was a twist of fate no one had seen coming—Eliana least of all.
‘May I?’ the man asked, pointing at the empty barstool between them.
Eliana nodded, taking a big sip of her wine as he slipped into the seat. She could almost feel the heat of his body radiating towards her. They were discussing last night’s futebol match, yet her body was reacting as if he had whispered tantalising words into her ear.
She glanced at her wristwatch. It was late enough not to seem impolite if she left. Her flight was early the next day, and today had already been long and tedious. Going now would save her a lot of energy she didn’t have.
Except Eliana didn’t want to leave. Not really. The man’s casual banter had made her forget about her heavy heart for a moment, and the way his dark eyes looked her over ignited small fires all over her skin.
It was a reaction she didn’t expect, but one that also wasn’t entirely unwelcome. This was what people did, right? They met in bars, decided to have some fun.
‘I’m Diego,’ he said, and it was only then she realised she had been staring at him.
His name sent a cascade of heat down her spine. He had only introduced himself. Why did it feel as if he just said something dirty to her?
‘Ana,’ she replied and took his outstretched hand. His grip was firm, and his fingers grazed her skin for just a moment as he held onto her hand a flash longer than was necessary.
A spark appeared at the spot where he’d broken their physical connection, travelling down her arm before settling in the pit of her stomach.
‘What brings you to Rio?’
A smile curled the full lips, highlighting the distinguished features of his face even more. He wore his jacket open, the linen shirt visible beneath giving her an idea of the pure masculine fantasy hidden underneath the fabric. A thought that dominated her to the point where she had to remind herself that they were in the middle of a conversation.
She’d been a woman at a bar before, talking to men like Diego. But she couldn’t remember ever having such an instant and visceral reaction to anyone’s proximity.
‘The funeral of my father.’
She didn’t want to discuss her father with anyone, but she needed something to distract herself from the fire eating her insides. He didn’t need to know she hadn’t gone.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Diego’s face softened.
‘Don’t be. We weren’t close.’ Eliana tried to keep the bitter edge out of her voice as much as she could. But the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think better of it.
To her surprise, Diego scoffed and took a sip of his drink. ‘I know what that’s like.’
‘Ah, we have father problems in common?’
His eyes darted to hers, darkening as their gazes meshed. A shiver crawled through her as she glimpsed a hint of the vulnerability he must keep hidden away behind his detached facade. The moment only lasted a second, before shutters fell over his eyes, cutting her off from anything that lay beyond the surface.
Which was just as well. Eliana wasn’t looking for any attachment here in Rio. The complexity of her father’s estate meant she’d need to briefly come back in a month, to claim the hospital and wrap up anything else that needed to be done to have Marco Costa out of her life for ever. She hoped to see as little of Rio de Janeiro as possible. The city bore nothing but nightmares for her.
Diego shrugged her question off, shifting his attention from his own contemplations to her. His pupils were dilated as his eyes darted back to her mouth. A signal that sent fire licking across her skin.
She wasn’t imagining the crackling air between them. At least not if she trusted the signs she’d noticed.
‘I see how it is. It’s fine for me to reveal my secrets, but you won’t tell me any of yours.’ She took a sip of her drink. Her gaze locked into his. ‘I’m always going to be a stranger you met at a bar. What do you have to lose?’
Eliana wasn’t sure why she was prying. Under normal circumstances she never would. But Diego intrigued her. Their conversation so far had already differed from the usual bar flirting she knew. Instead of asking about her life or her job, he’d found a common interest to talk about.
Did that mean he wanted to get to know her better?
The thought gave her pause. Hotel bar flirtations weren’t the romances one read about in novels. Besides, such a concept had no place in her life right now.
‘Why spoil the evening?’ He smiled—only half sincere—but even that was enough to bring heat to her cheeks.
In a defeated gesture, Eliana raised her hands. ‘Have it your way, senhor, but then I get to know something else. Tell me what brought you to Rio instead.’
He relaxed against the bar, with one arm resting on top of it while the other hand came up to his face, scrubbing over the light stubble covering his gorgeous high cheekbones.
‘Would you believe me if I said the funeral of my brother?’
He wasn’t really his brother. There had been no blood relation between him and Vanderson. But, despite Diego having ten siblings, he’d felt closer to that man than to any of his actual relatives.
He’d met Vanderson Costa when they were both eighteen and starting their mandatory military service in the Brazilian army. They’d both signed up for the medical training, their eyes set on med school after their service concluded.
Under normal circumstances the two would never have met. Vanderson had lived in a mansion in Ipanema, Rio’s most luxurious neighbourhood, while Diego himself had grown up on the outskirts of Complexo do Alemão, one of the largest slums north of the city centre. But during their service they’d all been recruits, brothers-in-arms going through it all together. Their friendship had bridged the gap in wealth and privilege, teaching Diego so much about himself and his path in life.
And now Vanderson was dead.
Losing his chosen brother clung to his heart as if someone had tied heavy weights to his chest when the news had reached him. To his surprise, he realised that this moment was the first during which he felt he could breathe easier again.
Somehow, this woman sitting in front of him was part of that process.
Diego had lived in Rio de Janeiro his entire life, and the only reason he found himself in a hotel was Vanderson’s funeral. He’d attended a small dinner with the surviving family—Vanderson’s husband and daughter.
He’d been about to leave when the woman sitting alone at the bar had caught his attention. Red undertones wove themselves through her dark brown hair, which flowed in lavish curls over her shoulders and looked silken to the touch. But what had drawn him in more than her hair, and the sensual curves visible even while she was sitting down, was what she’d been doing. She’d been looking at a nearby TV, watching the sports pundits who were discussing last night’s futebol game.
Being a futebol enthusiast himself, he had felt his interest piqued enough for him to walk over and see what she was doing.
Though Diego hadn’t been as subtle as he’d thought, and a few moments after he’d sat down she’d turned her head to look at him. Time had stopped for several heartbeats when their gazes collided, and he’d experienced an unusual twinge in his chest. He’d tried to look nonchalant—as if he hadn’t checked her out—but his body had refused to take any orders.
The light brown hue of her eyes was mesmerising. Every now and again the light hit her irises just right, giving them the appearance of pure gold.
She clearly didn’t understand the beauty she possessed. He could see that in the way she held herself. More than that, though, her analytical mind and quick wit had jumped out at him when they’d discussed the game. It spoke of passion, and he wanted to get to know her better, to understand what other areas of her life this passion unfolded into.
Which was a strange thought in itself. Diego never got to know the women who entered his life. It wasn’t anything personal, and he was upfront about it. He had watched his parents destroy themselves in the name of love, and knew the path of a romantic relationship only led to pain and forced sacrifices.
Diego made sure he got out before things got too emotional and involved. And one way to avoid all that was by not asking too many questions before moving on to the key event of the evening.
So why was he sitting here, asking about her relationship with her father? Or even telling her why he had come here?
Ana’s eyes narrowed as she looked him over, a slight frown pulling the corners of her mouth downwards. ‘Interesting how this bar is collecting the bereaved.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your brother.’
He smiled, feeling the sincerity of her sympathy radiate a gentle warmth through his skin. ‘Life is going to suck without him.’
Diego allowed himself to feel the truth of his words with this virtual stranger he found himself drawn to.
He watched as her eyes drifted to the watch on her delicate wrist and saw the signs that she was thinking about leaving. Something he knew he didn’t want her to do.
Her lips parted, no doubt to bid him farewell. Not wanting the evening to end just yet, Diego reached out, placing his hand over hers while obscuring the watch. Her skin was soft under his hand, radiating more heat into him that turned into a fiery spark as it penetrated his skin.
‘How long are you staying in Rio?’ he asked, and noticed a strange huskiness coating his voice. As if he wanted her to stay. Which was ridiculous. Because one night was all anyone ever got with him, so it didn’t matter how long she planned on staying.
Ana looked at him with wide eyes. Was she feeling the same intense spark jumping between them when he touched her? She twisted her hand so that their palms were touching, the tips of her fingers grazing over the inside of his hand.
‘Only tonight.’
She hesitated for a moment, and Diego saw the wheels behind her eyes turning. There was something she wanted to tell him. For a moment he held his breath in anticipation, but then the light in her eyes dimmed and she remained quiet.
Ana didn’t know her assumption about him being from out of town was wrong. He hadn’t corrected her. The information was irrelevant. Tomorrow she would be back wherever she came from, while he would be left alone to contemplate a new reality where his best friend was no more.
He hadn’t been able to stop himself when he’d seen Ana. Her presence seemed soothing, and it had required only one bat of her long lashes to awaken a roaring fire in his chest. He knew this reaction was different...unlike the usual flings he satisfied himself with. But he didn’t care in this moment. His pain faded when that flame spread through his body. He planned on feeding it until exhaustion took him.
‘Then I’m glad I spotted you when I did, or I might have missed the opportunity of a lifetime, Donna Ana.’
‘You sat down at the bar because you saw me?’
Scepticism laced her voice, and Diego almost laughed at that. There was no way a gorgeous woman like her didn’t have men approaching her in bars all the time. Yet she seemed surprised.
‘Couldn’t help it,’ he replied, his voice dropping low as he wove his fingers through hers.
While his mind was still trying to decide his body had taken control, reacting to the attraction arcing between them.
Eliana’s heart slammed against her ribcage as Diego’s fingers wrapped around her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The brown-green hue of his eyes darkened as the attraction that had been whirring around them for the last hour became almost tangible. Their hands touching had created a rapturous reaction within her, and her breath had caught in her throat. How was this even possible?
‘An unlikely story,’ she said, not able to keep her scepticism at bay.
She knew he was using honeyed words to flirt with her, and yet she couldn’t stop the chemicals firing in her brain. Their connection was an intense physical sensation, clawing its way throughout her body.
‘You don’t believe that I had no choice once I saw you?’
His voice vibrated low, seeping through her pores and into her body, settling behind her belly button with an uncomfortable pinch.
‘I think that’s a phrase you came up with and that it has proved most successful with all the different women you meet at bars.’
The words rang with the sound of an accusation although she hadn’t meant it.
Diego had clearly picked up on the subtle nuance as well, for he arched one of his eyebrows. ‘What do you think I’m after?’
His fingers were still entwined with hers, and the tips of them were rubbing against the back of her hand, sending sparkling showers across her arm. Heat rose through her body, entangling itself with the knot his touch had tied in her stomach and colliding with the sparks that were descending through her arm.
Everything about him made her react. He was like a potent magnet drawing at the fibres of her body. Control had slipped from her hands, and Eliana needed to regain it. She wasn’t the type of person to let it go that easily. But Diego was shrouding her thoughts in the thick mists of an instant attraction that was unlike any she had ever experienced before.
‘You want to sleep with me.’ No use beating around the bush.
‘Ah, straight to the point. Do you really want to skip the witty back-and-forth?’
His lips parted in a devastating grin, and Eliana caught her breath for a moment.
‘I’ve been told I’m a pretty good flirt,’ he said.
She chuckled at the aura of confidence he exuded, not wanting to let him know how deeply it impacted on her. ‘I’m sure that’s what they’ve all told you.’
Her words had the desired effect, for Diego took his free hand to clasp his chest with an indignant expression on his face. ‘You wound me, Donna Ana. You’re not wrong with your assessment, but I make sure a woman feels worshipped and cherished above anything else.’
Eliana raised a delicate eyebrow, thrown off guard by his bluntness. It matched hers, so she shouldn’t be surprised the way she was. His fingers wrapped around hers were creating a luscious fog around her, draping her in a cloud charged with desire and passion.
It made her wonder what else he could do with his fingers if this innocent touch had already raised all the hair along her arms. The soft curve of his lips begged to be kissed... She wanted to lose herself in the delicious promise they wrote on his face.
‘What is your usual plan of seduction?’
Maybe she didn’t want to skip all the foreplay. Eliana was still telling herself that she wasn’t in his thrall, that she could step back at any moment. But the flames of desire uncoiling themselves in her chest had already surrendered to his charms. She wanted all of him.
‘Normally I would buy you some drinks, and show my appreciation for your taste in alcohol. We’d discuss some unimportant things about our lives, and I would grab at every opportunity to flatter you. Touch you here and there as you tell me about yourself...’
Diego got up and stepped closer to her, forcing her to tilt her head up so she could look at him. His hand wandered up to her exposed arm, touching her shoulder before slipping down, leaving a series of fires under her skin.
‘I don’t like to talk about myself that much,’ she told him. Her voice sounded husky, and she was enthralled by the pure masculine magnetism he exuded. He could have her right this second if he asked.
He dipped his head, his face so close to hers now that the smell of his aftershave drifted up her nose. The scent of moss and earth shrouded her thoughts in an even more alluring mist, and without giving it a second thought she leaned in closer, wanting to close the gap between them.
‘Well, it’s a good thing you’ve already figured me out, so we can skip that part, can’t we?’ Diego whispered in a deep voice filled with promises of desire.
He shifted his head further, his lips grazing her ear and sending a sensual shiver down her spine.
No, would be the correct answer. But why? After the stress of this day, a bit of comfort in the arms of an otherworldly handsome man would be a soothing balm for her battered nerves. He’d made it clear that this was what he did, so there wouldn’t be any feelings hurt. And from the way he’d wrapped her around his little finger from the very beginning, she knew it would be good. What harm could one night do?
Eliana grabbed her bag before getting off the stool and stepping closer. Her hand trailed down his arm as she leaned in, so her lips brushed against his skin in a small suggestion of a kiss as she whispered, ‘I’m in Room 901. Finish your drink and meet me upstairs in fifteen minutes.’
